Descent Into Darkness
by StaroftheBlackRose
Summary: 15 years ago, Harry Potter and the Dark Lord disappeared after a climactic battle. Now, his twin girls and a transfer student from America, who has his own agenda, attempt to find out exactly what happened that night, and what they must do.
1. Prologue

12 Years Ago

_'I thought I knew you! I thought I could trust you! But instead, you do this to me? To both of us?' Ginevra Weasley shouted, tears streaming down her face, her blue eyes filled with pain and anger, her red hair flying like fire around her face. The man before her stood dumbstruck, his emerald eyes filled with pleading, wanting her to understand. He ran a hand through his messy, jet black hair._

_'Ginny, please,' he pleaded, but the red haired woman in question refused to do so, shaking her head yet again, her eyes hard and unyielding._

_'You would leave your children, too?' she asked, the unspeakable pain in her eyes now coloring her voice. 'You will go to your death, know your children will never know their father? Doing the same thing to them that your parents did to you? Only, you have a choice, dammit! Harry, you have a choice!'_

_Harry seemed to crumple. 'I'm sorry. Ginny, I don't have a choice.' He turned and left, and Ginny collapsed onto the couch, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, void of emotion. Only the small chorus of voices calling their mother caused love to enter her eyes among the pain, as two tousle haired two-year-old girls with their mother's flaming hair and their father's emerald eyes stood in the doorway, asking for her to feed them._

6 Months Later

**Front Page of the Daily Prophet**

Six months ago, Harry Potter, the famous Boy Who Lived, left his London home to seek out and destroy the Dark Lord, He Who Must Not Be Named. We lost all track of him--apparently he never even contacted his wife of five years, Ginevra Potter--until just recently, when the muggle Prime Minister contacted the Ministry to inform them of what his muggle informers told him was the 'greatest war ever fought, and it was between two men...' The informers also said that a number of masked and robed men were aiding one of the duelers, but that within the hour nearly all of them had been put out of commission.

The details of the battle, which had taken place only hours prior to contact, strongly suggested that the battle was indeed a wizard's duel, and the two concerned were the Dark Lord, and Harry Potter. That left the masked figures, which could only have been Death Eaters. Rushing to the scene of the battle, the only people there were dead or wounded, and all were Death Eaters. Those few that were alive were rounded up and taken into custody for questioning, given what the muggles said happened next.

The muggles said the two duelers, who had sticks that shot colored lights(wands), sent two jets of green, one at each other. The two jets met in the middle, and the two battlers disappeared. As little as anyone at the Ministry--or indeed, in the wizarding world--wanted to believe, the Death Eaters accounts, with the aid of strong Veritaserum, only confirmed the muggle accounts. They knew nothing of the occurance. All they said, was that their Lord had expected to win the battle, hands down, and be around to tell about it.

It appears that, in destroying the Dark Lord, the Boy Who Lived lost his life as well. However, sources say-(Cont. on Page 4, Boy Who Lived)

_A tall man in a dark cloak, somewhere in muggle London, was reading the front page of the Prophet by the lamplight. 'So it has begun,' he said, looking at the bundle in his arms. A baby, of about two and a half. 'You, Lance, have quite a job ahead of you.' The man apparated, disappearing with a loud pop._


	2. Chapter One: Twelve Years Later

Present Day

If you had known Ginevra Weasley at 15, you would never have guessed the woman sitting at her dining room table, staring into a steaming mug of tea, was her. Her once lush red hair had lost its luster, and was pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her deep blue eyes had lost the spark of fire that had seemed to be always burning. Her skin was pale, her freckles standing out even more. Her only reason for living, it seemed, were the twin girls in the other room, just waking up.

Had she not had them as reminders of her husband, as hope that he might one day return, she would not have made it these last 12 years. But watching them grow, become women, and their eyes, his eyes, held all in the world there was for her, any more.

"Gin, Lae!" she called, forcing cheer into her voice that wasn't totally faked. After all, she still had them. She intended to stay whole, for them. Their real names were Mina and Nepallae, but no one, not even their teachers called them that. They were the nicknames he had given them, and they had stuck. They were one more memento of the father they could only barely remember.

Lae was, as usual the first one out, which proved that her twin was at least awake. They had this uncanny intonation to each other, deeper than most identical twins, even, that meant that when one woke, so did the other, though they didn't get out of bed at the same time. Gin often complained about Lae waking too early, but it was all in humor now. She had gotten used to it, over the 15 years they had been alive.

"Yes, mum?" Lae asked, coming into the kitchen as Ginny pointed her wand at the stove and levitated their breakfast--fried eggs and bacon--onto the table. "Breakfast is served. Get your sister out here, will you?" Ginny asked her eldest, by two minuets. Lae closed her eyes for a moment, and her sister groggily came out a second later. "You rang?" she asked, her voice grumpy.

The twins were not normal, by any means. Aside from their intonation, their minds were deeply connected, far more than was normal for any set of twins. They could communicate telepathically with each other and even direct each others thoughts, if one was off guard. But their connection went even further than that. They could combine their powers. They could do things together with their wands, that no lore ever talked about, and no one could dream of doing. Not always particularly powerful--after all, they were still only fifteen--but still, things that no one else could do. And they were very advanced for their age, mentally and emotionally. They had greater grasp on their very emotion than most people had on how they showed emotion.

Ginny smiled, and in that smile there was a ghost of the beauty she once had, a ghost of her love of life. "You need to pack, Gin," Ginny said, and Gin pulled a face. "There's still a week left!" she said in a mock whine. "So? You still need to be packed. I don't want a repeat of last year."

Both the girls laughed at this. Last year, Lae had been all ready, as usual. Gin, however, had been reduced to throwing everything pell mell in her trunk in the last five minuets before they had to leave for the station. The situation, looking back, was very comical. It hadn't been at the time, though Lae had been very amused.

The two girls left to pack Gin's things, for Lae was already packed, and when they left the warm smile slipped from Ginny's lips like oil. She moved her hands, revealing the small square of parchment they had been covering when the girls had entered.

_Ginevra,_

_The time will come. You will know what to do. But you will have to let them go._

She murmured the words under her breath, more troubled as the seconds passed. A part of her knew its meaning, but the stronger side of her wanted to think it a cruel prank, and refused to believe her instinct. Sighing as the war within her reached its pinnacle, she tapped the paper with her wand, causing it to go up in brief flames, leaving nothing but as, which disappeared with another tap. It means nothing, she thought, refusing to admit that she was only desperately trying to convince herself.


	3. Chapter Two: A Tense Train Ride

One Week Later

_At the Station/On the Train to Hogwarts_

"You're sure you have everything? Do I need to hurry home for anything? Have your brooms, map, cloak, wands?" Ginny said, in her usual pre boarding-the-train fervor. With an air of having done this many a time before, the twins rolled their eyes and simultaneously said, "Yes, mum, we've got everything." Ginny smiled, ignoring the twins second eye-rolling as she straightened their muggle clothes, which they wouldn't even be wearing for very long. "iMum/i," the twins said, slightly exasperated, and Ginny left off, giving them each a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

The two pointed their wands at their trunks, which almost obediently rose into the air and followed them as they boarded the train. Gin carried a cage, which contained a purely black owl, its head currently tucked under it's wing. Her sister carried a straw basket, which contained the sleeping form of her white cat, Krystal, who had black markings on her face, the only place there was anything other than white. Gin secretly called the cat Demon, given her nature, and her love of terrorizing people and destroying property.

Finding an empty compartment, the two entered, stowing away their trunks. "Don't you let that monster out," Gin warned, glaring at the straw basket Lae had just set on the seat beside her. "She's not a monster, Gin. She just doesn't like some people. But really, she's a harmless kitty!" Lae crooned, opening the basket and withdrawing the cat in question. Gin shook her head in mild disbelief. "Only you could find the good side of the devil, Lae." She hurriedly stowed the cage containing her owl, Midnight, up out of the cat's reach, warily glancing at her before sitting on the opposite side of the carriage.

Soon after the train began moving, the compartment door opened. Lae, busy stroking Krystal and reading this year's potions book, didn't even look up until she heard her sister say, "What do you think you're doing here?" a low growl in her voice. There was really only one person who could insite that reaction.

Glancing at the now-open doorway, Lae saw the familiar figure of Oliver Malfoy. He looked much like his father, in fact, all like his father, very little of his mother in him at all. His hair was somewhat short, and platinum blond, and his eyes were a deep, ice blue. His features were nicely chiseled and his muscles were rather refined, given that he was the Slytherin Seeker, and Captain, being in his sixth year now. His skin was a flawless porcelain, and all in all Lae thought he looked rather handsome. She never told Gin that, though, because Gin hated Slytherins with a passion, and Malfoy most of all. And Lae did have to admit, with his attitude Oliver never gave them reason not to hate him.

"Well, look who it is! The wonder twins, in the flesh!" Oliver said in an oily voice, an exclamation of mock surprise. Lae frowned, shaking her head and returning her attention to Krystal. Gin's frown became a scowl, and as usual Oliver didn't stop there. "Why, I suppose I should grovel at your feet, Oh Mighty Ones! You are All Powerful, and All Knowing!"

Gin had had about enough. "What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked, a hint of true anger in her voice, always a danger sign.

"I want a place to sit, Potter. Everywhere else is full. Believe me, this was far from my first choice of seating arrangements," Oliver replied, the oily tone gone now. He frowned himself, though when Lae looked up Gin was glaring at Oliver, and the ghost of something else, some other feeling, passed through his eyes, but was as quickly gone, and he was glaring back. Lae shook her head softly, trying to decide if she had been seeing things.

Gin apparently didn't notice, for she said, "There's always the roof. Or would that mess up Malfoy's precious hair?"

Just when Lae had decided she had imagined what she had seen, Oliver said, "Look, I don't want to fight, not now. May I sit here, please?" It wasn't the tone of voice Oliver was now using that caused Gin to nod dumbly, staring at him--though that was strange enough--it was the last word. Never once, in the five years the twins had known him, had he said any kind word, let alone 'please'. And he had always been rather more rude to Gin that he was to Lae.

Oliver entered the compartment, his trunk floating along behind him, which he put in the rack, before sitting a few seats over from Gin, next to the window. Mutely looking at him, Gin pulled out a Transfiguration book and began reading it--upside down, Lae noted. Oliver was staring out the window, though the glances he shot at Gin were not lost on the 'wiser' twin. The silence in the compartment was tight and strained with awkwardness, and Lae, a half smile on her lips, Sent, iWouldn't it be a little hard to read like that, Gin?/i to her sister.

She could feel the heat rising in her sisters cheeks as though they were her own, as Gin turned over the book and continued 'reading' it. Shaking her head, Lae didn't even bother trying to make conversation. She knew that, this time at least, her efforts would be in vain. And so the ride passed in silence.

When the woman with the lunch cart came around, Lae was the only one aware enough to realize it and get something. Sighing, she looked over at Gin and Oliver--Oliver was still staring out of the window, occasionally stealing glances at Gin, and Gin was still on the same page of the Transfiguration book as she had been when she first opened it. With a sigh, Lae bought enough for the three of them, wondering if either of them would snap out of it before the ride was over.

Finally Lae decided to do something. She pulled the book out of her sister's hands. "You need to get changed, we're almost there." This brought Oliver back to earth, too, and he left the room while the twins changed, returning later in his own robes. Still they said nothing, and Lae sighed, wondering if this would continue all year. When the train pulled into the station, Lae pulled her sister out of the compartment, leaving Oliver to sort himself out.

"Do you realize what you two looked like, in there?" Lae asked, pushing her sister into an empty carriage, that was soon filled with two Ravenclaws and a Hufflepuff. Gin looked at her sister, raising an eyebrow. "It looked like you like each other!" Lae hissed, chuckling at the look of shock crossing Gin's face. "That's not it at all!" she snapped, and turned the conversation to other matters.

_Back in London_

_"Lance," the tall cloaked man said, his hand resting on the 15-year-old boy's shoulder, his deep voice grave. The boy looked up at his mentor attentively, though it looked as though he knew what was coming next. "You will need to find the girls. Twins, they are, Nepallae and Mina. The only Potters. Do you know what you must do?" Lance nodded, and repeated the instructions he had been given since he was old enough to talk. "Then go, and may your quest be fulfilled." The man and Lance disapparated, each to separate locations. Their plan would soon be set in motion._


	4. Chapter Three: A New Transfer Student

_Author's Note: Hello, all my readers! I apologize for not having finished this much earlier, but I have lost three consecutive copies of my third chapter, and I must say I was NOT happy. I am picking it up again, though, and this time, I think I've sorted out my computer's kinks. Anyway, onto notes of value! (laugh) As you may have noticed, there is some AU stuff going on. For instance, the powers Lae and Gin have aren't exactly canon, but they are essential to the stories developement. And the exchange student is definitely essential to the entire story. And a Malfoy not wanting to fight with a Potter? Please. And you may have picked up on a little something in the last chapter, but if you haven't I reserve the right to tell you that you are unbelievably thick--worse than Gin! And if you did, I will only say this--things might not turn out as expected. By the way, I did make the Sorting Song myself, so don't bash it too much, please (I know it's bad, but at least it rhymes!). Anyway, onto Chapter Three!_

Later That Night

_The Sorting_

"Did you see him?"

"From America? We have a student from _America_?"

"But we never get transfer students!"

"Ah, he probably moved here recently or something."

"He's bloody _gorgeous!_"

These and other mutterings could be heard sweeping through the Great Hall like wild fire, girls turning to eachother and whispering, casting glances at the teenage boy standing slightly apart from the milling First Years who had just entered from their trip across the Black Lake. The boys looked nothing short of murderous, glaring at the boy as they saw nearly all the girls' attention on him. The boys saw nothing about him that was worth looking at. Sure, he had dark, nearly black hair that fell to the nape of his neck and bangs that hung continuously into his eyes, which were the deep, swirling grey of a summer storm, flecks of green within like ocean waters. Sure, he had tanned skin and a tall, lithe, athletic figure, and sure, by any sense of the term he was drop-dead gorgeous. But really, what was there to look at? Even some of the Slytherin girls shot him looks of appreciation, but those would stop if he was Sorted anywhere but Slytherin.

Given the circumstances, it took quite a bit longer for the students to quiet down than usual when Professor McGonagall, who had taken over after Dumbledore had been killed, stood. When she finally had their full attention, she began to speak. "Welcome back, students, to another year at Hogwarts," McGonagall began in the usual year's-start greeting. "As you may have noticed, there is a transfer student this year. We do not normally accept transfers--" (given the renewed whispering, it was quite obvious this was the first time anyone had transfered to Hogwarts) "--but Lance Sellers is a rather special case. He is from America's Salem Institution of Wizards and Witches, and I would all of you to show him every kindness that befits a student of Hogwarts." She fell silent for a moment, waiting while Professor Flitwick, the Charms professor, brought out the stool, on which sat a patched and frayed wizard's hat. The rip near the brim opened, and the Hat burst into song.

"It is time again to Sort you all,

Time for another year to call,

And with that being said I pray

That you shall listen to me today.

Gryffindor was brave and bold,

And those qualities his students hold,

But with their boldness comes rash mentality

Which can result in a fatality.

Slytherin was slick and keen,

And his students too were mean,

But too much of this is not healthy

Even to those who are wealthy.

Ravenclaw was shrewd and wise,

And her students too used their eyes,

But book smarts aren't everything

Without the guts as backing.

Hufflepuff was kind and sweet,

And her students too were neat,

But even this can be over done

If used upon the wrong one.

Again I Sort you, again I tell the story

Of four brave founders bound by worry,

That the wizards in each generation

Might grow without the knowledge of their nation.

Judge not by houses your friend or foes,

Place not the blame on others of your woes.

Stand strong, stand firm, you know the price

If you do not heed my advice."

Lae and Gin shared a glance, both glancing back at the hat as the song ended. _What was that supposed to mean?_ Gin asked her sister, who only shook her head, equally clueless. They both looked back up at McGonagall, who was about to speak once more before the Sorting. "As we have unusual circumstances this year, Lance shall be sorted first, for he is going into his fifth year. Place the hat on your head, and go to the table of the House into which you are Sorted." She nodded at Lance, and soon the attention of everyone in the hall ("He's so dreamy," Lae sighed, batting her eyelashes and ignoring her sister's disgusted looks in her direction.) were on the handesome teenage boy strolling nonchallantly to the stool, where he sat upon putting the hat on his head. The hat was silent for what seemed like eternity--everyone was holding their breath, many secretly hoping he would get sorted into their house.

_"I see unusual circumstances here, Lance Sellers," the Hat whispered into Lance's ear, much to Lance's astonishment. "Ah, yes, of course I know," the Hat said before Lance had a chance to reply. "I can see everything in your head, but I am not bound by your obligations. You will be Sorted into the House in which you fit best. Let's see... you've got quite a lot of talent, my boy, not bad for an American--" (at which Lance uttered a disgruntled snort) "--and you have a strong sense of justice. You're brave, no doubting that, and you have your own ambitions. But perhaps Slytherin doesn't suit you. No, I think... you are in luck today, boy. You'll fit best in--_

"GRYFFINDOR!" Thuderous applause exploded from the table, Lae's clapping chief among it. She looked ecstatic, and her emerald eyes held an odd gleam Gin had never seen their before. "You... you really fancy him, don't you?" Gin asked, startled into speaking out loud by her sister's reaction. Lae flushed slightly, but her eyes still sparkled in the candlelight. "Helloooo, earth to Lae," Gin said, waving her hand in front of her sister's face--this seemed to bring her back, and she gave Gin an aggrieved look.

"Oh, of course not, you dope, I just-- he's coming this way!" she squealed, clapping her hands over her mouth in her excitement. Gin rolled her eyes at her sister, shaking her head and running a hand through her own fiery red hair. Then a wicked smile curved Gin's lips, and she looked around, spotting Lance who was still moving down the table as though looking for someone. "Oi, Lance!" Gin called, catching his attention and waving him over, ignoring sharp pokes to the ribs from her sister.

_Lance heard the Hat shout Gryffindor to the whole hall with a wave of relief--he had begun to think the whole plan would fall apart before it started. It was easy to locate the Gryffindors--they were clapping the hardest. He walked slowly along the table, his eyes glancing from person to person, searching-- at the sound of his name being called, he looked up and smiled. It seemed this would not be as hard as he had originally thought. He didn't know which one it was, but one of them was waving him over, though the other looked positively startled at the prospect. He quickly moved down the table twards them. The sister who had waved him over shoved her sister to the side and motioned for him to sit between them._

_"I'm Gin," the girl who had waved him over spoke, "and that's Lae. But we'll forgive you if you can't tell the difference--few can." 'Oh, but I will soon enough,' Lance thought, though he kept it to himself, instead smiling meltingly at Gin, who seemed oddly unaffected. This startled him somewhat, he was used to female's normal reaction to him. He was brought out of his reverie when Gin asked him a question._

_"So, how is America?" she asked, talking rather loudly to be heard over the Sorting._

_"Oh, it was... different. Very different."_


End file.
